


A Whole Lotta Nothin’ and a Way to Go

by Anonymous



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mutant Powers, Other, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:19:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13140849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ‘Really,’ he thought, staring into the mirror, where he was definitely supposed to see himself staring back ‘There definitely have to be some upsides to this. Definitely.’





	A Whole Lotta Nothin’ and a Way to Go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MercutioLives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercutioLives/gifts).



> Hey! So, I hope you enjoy this, I got it up just in time as I initially submitted the wrong draft and didn't realize it until I checked my emails on holiday for the first time (oops), hopefully it's approved before reveals!

‘Okay, this is... not so bad.’

These were the words Mercutio repeated to himself, over and over again, as if repetition could somehow make them more true.

‘Really,’ he thought, staring into the mirror, where he was definitely supposed to see himself staring back ‘There definitely have to be some upsides to this. Definitely.’

He wasn’t even lying to himself, not really. This definitely had potential. But, it had been close to two hours now, and he was starting to get more than a little concerned about the potential of not actually ever returning to normal. In fact, it may even have been more than two hours, there was no way to be sure. He’d only noticed his state a couple of hours ago, when Romeo had walked past him like he wasn’t even standing there. When he’d called out to grab his attention, Romeo had damn near taken out the kitchen table in his shock. 

Truthfully, it had been hilarious for a moment, but when Romeo just continued to stare, searching, in his general direction without ever actually staring at him, well, that had been a little disconcerting. It wasn’t enough to tamper his amusement entirely, but it was unignorable. When he’d asked Romeo what the hell his problem was, affectionate, mostly, and Romeo had turned tail and run straight out of the apartment, well. That was cause for a tiny bit of real concern. 

His first instinct was to mull over the possibility that this was an act, or a prank, but it didn’t quite make sense. Romeo wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t particularly clever, either. Not in this way, at least. And, as Mercutio himself could not see the end to this prank (and prided himself on being at least moderately clever), he assumed that couldn’t be it. 

He’d kept wracking his brain for possibilities, until he’d looked down, and all thoughts stalled. 

It had taken a while to actually process what he was seeing, which was, in fact, nothing at all. 

Around that time his mind had kicked into overdrive. Was he was sure he was sober? Perhaps not, but he was certainly sure he wasn’t this far from it. Could this be a psychotic break? They did say people in the midst of a psychotic break didn’t realize it happening, so surely it was a good thing that he was even considering it. Then again, maybe this dismissal was a sign that he was in fact having one. Who could say. The most ridiculous possibility, if he could even really call it that, was the idea that he was, truly, invisible. 

He’d spent the next hour or so alternately testing the limits of his new found ‘gift’, while considering the potentially hilarious consequences of it, and pondering on the idea that he should likely be panicking at least a little more. 

By the time he heard two familiar voices headed down the hall, he was near gleeful with the possibilities. He hadn’t planned anything too sophisticated just yet, but what was wrong with a classic scare?

“You can’t be haunted by someone who’s still alive, you get that, right?” Benvolio’s perturbed, and slightly amused, voice drifted through the door. As he listened to the key in the lock he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face at Romeo’s insistent tone that Benvolio brace himself.  
“Yes. Shut up. I know that, but I’m TELLING you that’s what’s happening. You’ll see.”  
“Sure I will.”  
“You will! Are you ready?”  
“Yes,” he could almost hear the eyeroll in his friend’s voice. “I’m ready. Get on with it, then.”

Finally, the door opened, and Mercutio was ready for them. He grinned while he watched them walk in, Romeo, wide eyed and nervous, glancing cautiously around the apartment. Benvolio’s expression was mostly a weary one. 

“Mercutio, buddy. Are you there? Er-here? Hello?”

Mercutio had to muffle his snickers with his hand, so as not to give himself away just yet. Benvolio sighed. 

“MERCUTIO!” He yelled, to no avail. “I swear he was here!” Romeo insisted, turning to Benvolio and gesturing vigorously at the space where he’d heard Mercutio’s voice earlier. Benvolio merely sighed. “Sure he was. I know you’re not always the best with pranks, but this is just sad-”  
“No, really!”  
As they argued, Mercutio crept around them, as quietly as he could manage (he’d even put on socks to muffle his footsteps in anticipation for their arrival). He kept going until he was right up behind them and could no longer contain himself, and brought down his hands onto their shoulders suddenly, loud yell tapering off into true hysterics when both of them leapt out of their skin and screamed. 

He fell to the ground laughing while they both clutched their chests and cursed profusely. He could hardly breathe for how hard he was laughing, let alone be expected to stay upright. 

“What the fuck?!” Shouted Benvolio.  
“Exactly! You see, Mercutio is a ghost.” Romeo once again gesture wildly in his direction.  
“I’m- not a ghost, you idiot.” Mercutio managed to gasp out between breaths. “I’m just invisible.” Benvolio groaned the groan of a deeply tired and troubled man, while Romeo still managed to find enough shock in the situation to gasp at this new information. 

“You have got to be kidding me. That can’t be possible.” Benvolio insisted.  
“And yet.” Mercutio countered. Romeo was busy repeating invisible to himself in wonder, still staring in Mercutio’s direction, eyes darting around like he couldn’t help but expect that if he just looked hard enough he would suddenly see him appear.

Once the shock had worn off, it hadn’t taken long for the interrogations to begin. Mercutio was more than happy to share what he’d gleaned from his ‘experimenting’ while Romeo had been gone. Unfortunately, that wasn’t much at all. He’d mainly determined that he was only invisible, and not, in fact, any type of ghost able to pass through objects or move things with his mind. He’d spent a frankly concerning amount of time trying to make that last one work. In the end, the questioning weighing heaviest on everyone’s shoulders was when, and if, he would return to normal.

+

On the bright side, Mercutio woke up the next morning entirely visible. He’d walked into the kitchen naked as the day he was born, just to be sure his roommates would yell at him enough that there could be no mistaking the situation.

On the downside, he didn’t stay that way, and was realizing very quickly that he had no real control over when he disappeared, or any clue as to why.

Benvolio had suggested that he stay home and effectively out of sight until they figured out how to get things under control, and really that was the wisest thing to do. But of all the things Mercutio was, wise had never been one of them. Not in this way, at least. Good at following instructions, even less so. 

Benvolio had gone to work, Romeo and Mercutio had gone to a party, vowing not to tell their more responsible friend, laughing over their secret like school children, knowing well that they’d both end up telling him about it in the morning, regardless. 

When Romeo had disappeared into an upstairs bedroom with Juliet Capulet, he hadn’t thought much of it. It wasn’t the best idea, but the most enjoyable things in life rarely were, he was hardly going to be the one to chastise them for wanting to have a good time, perhaps with a little undercurrent of rebellion spurring them on. It was good for the soul. 

All had been well until Tybalt had come storming in the party, shouting for Juliet. He was a cloud of frustration and barely contained rage, and really, that just looked like a good time, Mercutio thought. Tybalt brought out arguably the most unrestrained, excess in Mercutio, he knew this but he couldn’t stop it, and didn’t particularly care to try, honesty. The other man just created an itch somewhere deep inside that he couldn’t help but scratch. 

They’d fought, as they always did, and it had been fun, a little desperate, as it always was. 

However, when they’d stepped outside (or rather been forced by whoever the host of this particular soiree was) and Tybalt had shoved him, hard, Mercutio had lost his footing, slipped, and taken a dive off the steep cliff at the end of the property. He’d ended up landing hard on a sandy, dirty ledge full of dead vines, but when Tybalt had scrambled to the edge of the ground and looked down the ledge, eyes staring down into the rocks and deep, unforgiving waters roughly twenty metres below where Mercutio had landed, it was clear he could not see him and assumed he’d fallen to his death. 

He’d stared back up at Tybalt, expecting his mind to begin whirring with the possibilities in front of him, at Tybalt believing him dead, but unable to get there. Instead, he was caught watching Tybalt’s strange expression. One he couldn’t quite pin down. Fear, maybe. Something desperate and terrified he’d only caught the briefest glimpses of when they’d had their worst fights in the past, but never quite been sure of afterwards. 

Then, as quick as he’d fallen, Tybalt was gone, and Mercutio was left to scramble up the ledge without alerting the now panicked party-goers who were still lucid enough to realize what had happened that he was invisible, or falling to his death for real.

Once he’d finally made it back up to the property line, and managed to get out to the street without giving himself away, he’d decided that a little revenge ‘haunting’ was in order. Afterall, if Tybalt could treat his death with so little remorse, surely that was the least he deserved. Not to mention, he’d find out soon enough that Mercutio was, in fact, very much alive. At which point there would be hell to pay from Tybalt, who would clearly assume this to be some elaborate hoax at his expense, so it’d really be a shame to make him a liar, on top of a murderer. Or so he thought, at least.

He’d walked to Tybalt’s apartment, and found his way up via the rusting, forgotten fire escape that led to the bathroom. He’d made a bit of a commotion getting inside, but Tybalt didn’t seem to notice. Once he’d reached the bedroom, he could see why. 

Tybalt was sat at the end of his bed, pale and still, except for the shaking of his fists, which were clenched tightly at the fabric of his shirt. This was not what Mercutio had come for. He’d come expecting Tybalt to be angry, or even panicked, but not this. Not looking so despondent, so torn apart. He wasn’t sure where to go, from here. It felt wrong to be here, so invasive, but he wanted to restore their balance. Couldn’t leave with Tybalt like this, believing he’d killed him. He wanted to restore his fire. 

“Why so glum? You hate me, remember.” Tybalt hardly moved a muscle, but the shaking of his fists halted.  
“No.” His voice was hard, leaving no room for question or accepting the voice he’d heard.  
“Yes.” Mercutio argued. He was silent a moment, before letting out a bitter laugh.  
“Just my luck, to be haunted like this. I should have known, I’ve more than earned it.” Tybalt was a lot of things, but self-pitying wasn’t one of them. It filled Mercutio with a new kind of anger and he stomped forward to grab hold of Tybalt’s shoulders and shake him, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders.  
“I’m not haunting you, jackass.” Now Tybalt was well and truly in shock. Eyes darting wildly around the seemingly empty space where his voice had come from. “I’m right here”.  
“This can’t be real.” He insisted, a waiver to his voice. “This can’t be real.” 

Mercutio relaxed back slightly. He still felt off from moments ago, but shock was a much more palatable emotion, on Tybalt. This he could deal with.  
“You’re telling me.” he responded, a little laughter in his voice. Truly, he was constantly grappling with the impossibility of his situation. Tybalt’s eyes continued darting around the space frantically. He looked ready to bolt, but without any direction as to where he would go.  
“Where has all your grace gone?” Mercutio teased.  
“This...can’t be real.” He repeated. “This can’t be real. You’re dead. Or I’m crazy. Or both.”  
“Well I can’t speak to your sanity, but I’m certain I’m not dead.”  
“Why can’t I see you?” Tybalt demanded. Mercutio shrugged, then quickly realized it wouldn’t be seen.  
“Fuck if I know.”  
“But you are alive?” Tybalt questioned, insistent.  
“As far as I know.”

 

Tybalt was silent for a moment, letting out a heavy breath. “Alright. Get the fuck out of my apartment.” And Mercutio couldn’t help the laugh that was practically punched out of his gut.  
“A moment ago you looked ready to collapse, thinking you’d killed me, now you’re kicking me out? I don’t think so.”  
“I’ll throw you out, if you make me.” Mercutio scoffed at that.  
“Good luck. You can’t even see me, and you can barely come close to beating me on a good day.” He could see Tybalt’s hackles rising at that, and found it deeply satisfying and relieving to be back on familiar ground.  
“I bea-”  
“And!” Mercutio cried out, cutting him off. “You can hardly send me out just as the sun is coming up! What if someone sees me appearing again?! Think of what could happen to me if someone found out.” He was only partially teasing.  
“I couldn’t care less what happens to you.”  
“Well now I think we both know that’s not at all true, don’t we? Or have you forgotten the last hour so quickly?” Tybalt balked at that, and Mercutio felt a sour twist of guilty satisfaction when he saw it.  
“And yet here you are, entrusting your secret to me. What does that say about you, then?”

Mercutio opened his mouth to speak, and found that there were no words. Maybe this hadn’t been one of his better ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I hope you enjoyed this! I'd wanted to make it longer, but life got the best of me. On the bright-side: I'll definitely be continuing this as a series! Just a sandbox I love too much, I need to play in it a little more (probably unsurprising, given my username - once it's revealed, that is). I'm also dying to get into my long held and much loved FtM!Tybalt headcanons, hopefully you'll enjoy that as well, if you enjoyed this enough to follow when I keep going.


End file.
